


City of Sand

by taffetaDirigible



Series: RTPKMN [4]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff and Angst, Multi, Roosterteeth/Pokemon AU, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-22 20:28:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/917694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taffetaDirigible/pseuds/taffetaDirigible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finally out of the caves of Mt. Flint, Michael and Gavin settle into Goldboro, the mysterious stone city rising up out of the desert...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Michael was struggling to control his temper.

"You know, you boys are both pretty lucky."

There was something unnerving about the way all the police officers in their region bore similar resemblance to one another.

Gavin smiled politely but Michael had to the nerve to take the bait.

"Why’s that?"

"Whoever stole your Pokemon must have been amateurs. Some newly deposited Pokemon that match the description in your report were tagged by the GTS system early this morning. They haven’t passed through the hub yet so they’re currently being held frozen, digitally. Once things get processed, if you can confirm ownership, we can typically expect to get them returned within the next day or so."

Michael’s lips thinned, annoyed that the missing Pokemon weren’t already there and waiting for Gavin to hold with his hands. But with a glance to the side, some of his irritation melted away. Gavin looked pleased.

"So… they’re safe?" Gavin asked breathlessly.

The officer smiled warmly. “Don’t worry. They weren’t even in transit, they were being stored in a PC Box.”

Michael unbent a little, but there was still an edge to his voice. “So whose was it?”

The officer blinked. “Whose was what?”

"Whose PC Box? Come on, who did it?"

Gavin gave him a quick jab in the ribs with his elbow but the officer only smiled in understanding, ignoring the steel edge of Michael’s words. “Unfortunately, it’s an anonymous Box. Many of them are these days. Just about anyone can rent one without having to register it to a Trainer’s ID, lots of people who want to use one don’t even _have_ a League issued ID. Rest assured though Mr. Free, once stolen Pokemon have been tagged in the system, only League police officers can access the Box they were found in. Whoever robbed you will probably be laying low for a while once they realize what happened.” When Michael growled, she quickly followed up with “But your report is still active. There’s a warrant out now, it’s only a matter of time because they mess up again.”

Michael didn’t look satisfied, but Gavin did and that was good enough so far as Michael was concerned. Although he kept his thoughts to himself, he made a point to let his displeasure creep into his expression, that those two Team Rocket grunts weren’t hog-tied and waiting obediently for Michael to murder them in the lobby of Goldboro’s police station. He’d take Gavin’s palpable relief as a temporary substitute.

"We have your information, sir. As soon as the administrative work is done and the transfer is complete, you’ll be contacted immediately. Please just try to relax in the meantime."

Gavin forced a shaky grin. “Thank you, I will.”

Michael muttered something but kept the rest of his scathing inner monologue to himself.

Minutes of silence passed between them as they left the police station, walking out into the sunlit streets of Goldboro, the City of Sand.

They’d eaten a meager breakfast after leaving the Inn earlier that morning, but neither of them had the stomach for it at the time. 

Now Michael was starving.

Gavin broke the quiet with a question he already knew the answer to. “So what’s next? You hungry?”

"Like you wouldn’t believe."

A slow spread smile formed at the corners of Gavin’s lips. “Yeah, me too. What’re you in the mood for?”

The anger still pulsing through Michael’s every fiber demanded blood, however he could get it, preferably in the form a big, juicy burger. “I want a quarter-fucking-pounder. With goddamn cheese.”

Gavin grinned, and Michael let himself relax, marginally.

After an indulgent night’s sleep that had replenished his reserves, Michael now had it in him to be psychotically furious about the fact that Gavin had been robbed, an emotion he hadn’t had the energy for back in the caves. Oh he’d been _mad_ , certainly, but also drained to the point where he’d considered not bothering with pursuit. Now though-

_Just let me find those bastards. Just let them fucking cross my path._

All morning, Michael had been exerting all the self-control he possessed to keep Gavin from seeing the emotional maelstrom he’d become. Fury against Team Rocket, against Ray. Fear that maybe they _wouldn’t_ be able to get Gavin’s Pokemon back, a fear that Michael would continue to harbor until they were safely clipped back onto Gavin’s belt.

Shame, that he’d let it all happen. He’d been eager, over-zealous. Cocky. All the things that had gotten him into trouble back at Cobbleton, which had been bad enough when he was the victim of his own stupidity. But when it was Gavin-

Michael swallowed hard, hoping the wince would be interpreted as hunger as they wandered the busy streets, looking somewhere to grab their lunch.

It would have been difficult enough without the dreams. All night long, despite falling asleep immediately, Michael had been plagued with phantom visions, fresh memories of Gavin’s hot skin against his own, soft and clean, the feel of his hair through his fingers, the cantering pace of his heartbeat.

He could only pray he hadn’t been moaning in his sleep.

When he’d waken up in a cold sweat and a mess in his shorts, he might have died on the spot had Gavin not still been asleep, uncharacteristically.

Gavin wasn’t treating him warily, so he clung to that for reassurance that he hadn’t embarrassed himself any further than he already had back in Mt. Flint.

Some of the redness cleared from the edges of Michael’s vision when he finally found himself sitting in a comfortable booth with a generous bite of medium-rare burger in his mouth.

Gavin’s noodle bowl smelled fantastic, but he stood by his choice, grateful for something socially acceptable to sink his teeth into.

If Gavin found Michael’s treatment of his food out of the ordinary, he didn’t mention it, content to focus on what was in front of him- until he finished it in record time.

"You damn near breathed that thing in, Micheal," Gavin commented, arching an eyebrow in a sassy, confident manner that made Michael’s stomach flip. Every day, it seemed, Gavin was coming out of his shell a little more. Michael wasn’t sure the world was ready for what he’d unleashed, but the occasional traces of what was to come made him dizzy to think about.

Michael wadded up the wax paper and he chewed on his last bite of burger, busying himself with wiping off his fingers as he delayed his reply. “I was fucking hungry.”

Gavin’s raised his brows silently with a wicked grin but didn’t tease him further, finishing up the end of his own meal. Little did he know, Michael wouldn’t have cared if he did, relieved as he was to see the haunted, half-crazed look of fear out of his eyes.

"Now what?"

Michael shrugged. “We could check out the Gym. There’s also a museum here, you’d probably like that.”

Gavin’s eyes went wide and Michael felt himself warm with affection at the sudden look of of interest on Gavin’s face.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, artifacts from around the region and stuff. We couldn’t see it from the other side of the mountain, but we’re actually on the edge of a desert right now. There’s tons of cool crap out there, lots of archaeologists end up here to get out there and study. If I recall correctly, the Gym here was actually set up in a pyramid they dug up when the town was just being settled."

Gavin silently mouthed the word “cool” and Michael grinned.

"Well now I know where to look for you if you wander off."

Gavin cracked his neck and let out a soft yawn, full of food and drained of the tension that had been plaguing him. “I’d really like that. I know about bugger-all about this part of the world. I’ll make a point to bring a notebook.” He seemed to catch the tone of his own voice then, eager and childlike and he cleared his throat, just the slightest hint of color rising to his cheeks. “I mean, my grandfather will never forgive me if I don’t come back without notes for his memoirs and research. Don’t wanna let him down.”

On another day, Michael might have teased him. But not then. “Of course.”

 

Michael’s eyes were narrowed in pleasure, his hands in his pockets, leisurely strolling around the vast halls of the Goldboro Museum of History with Gavin darting about to and fro somewhere ahead of him. They were in a vaulted corridor full of assembled massive Pokemon skeletons. Gods of the past, huge constructions of the bones of Charizards and Dragonites posed, frozen in time, secured off with plush velvet rope.

Gavin kept switching between taking pictures and making little sketches in his notebook. He wasn’t the only enthusiast doing so, either. Lovers of Pokemon and history of all ages were making their way through the museum of various paces, some excited, some casual, some even reluctant at the behest of another. Gavin obviously belonged in the first category.

"Micheal!"

His raised his head, pulling himself away from the placard description he’d been reading about an ancient species.

"Michael, let’s go through here! There’s hieroglyphics!"

Michael smiled affectionately and picked up his pace to comply. By the time he’d entered the following wing of the museum, Gavin was once again almost halfway through the exhibit already. Michael’s interest was piqued though, his eyes landing on a stone tablet safely stored behind glass with a description sign next to it that bore the symbol of the League.

It only took Gavin a moment or so to realize that something had grabbed Michael’s attention, quickly backtracking to find out what it was.

"What’ve we got here?" Gavin murmured, reading the sign over Michael’s shoulder. Michael swallowed hard at their close proximity, able to feel the heat of Gavin’s body against his back. He managed not to show an outward reaction.

"It’s an inscription about the Gym."

Gavin took in a quick breath, shifting his weight. “Oh yeah?”

"Maybe sixty or so years ago, when the city was a lot smaller and didn’t have a Gym yet, someone discovered something out in the desert. Artifacts and whatnot. Started to attract attention from the Academy so they sent out some archeological teams. By the time they were done, they’d unearthed a pyramid. Inside, they found hieroglyphics describing Pokemon, namely strong Psychic types."

Michael could just barely hear Gavin’s short intake of breath. “Alright, well now things are starting to make sense. You’d think there’d be a Rock specialist out here or something.”

Michael nodded. “It’s kind vague and mysterious, but it says the archaeologists found a powerful Psychic Pokemon inside. It’s apparently with the permission of that Pokemon that the pyramid was turned into a Gym, and according to local legends, the Pokemon chooses the Gym Leaders. Huh.” He glanced back over his shoulder at Gavin, who’d lost the casual, inquisitive attitude. Now he looked genuinely disturbed.

"You don’t think you’ll actually… have to battle some ancient, legendary Pokemon, do you?"

Ice was making it’s way steadily up Michael’s spine but he shook his head and looked away from the stone tablet, giving Gavin his best arrogant smile. “Nah. It’s just an old story. Folklore and crap.”

Gavin managed a return smile but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

"Well anyways, now I’m definitely stoked about checking the Gym out.”

Michael didn’t like Gavin’s wary expression and quickly changed the subject.

"We don’t have to do that today though or anything. Come on, let’s check out some more shit."

Gavin nodded and hurried along, sparing once last glance over his shoulder at the mysterious stone tablet.

 

On the other side of town, in an Inn with a much seedier reputation than the one Michael and Gavin had checked into, two other young men were making their temporary home in Goldboro.

One of them was pacing the room, the other sitting on the edge of a bed, his face in his hands.

"What do you mean they’re _gone?_ " Chris whispered, raking his fingers through his hair.

"That’s what I said!" Kerry spat in frustration, pivoting on the balls of his feet to turn around and stare at Chris. "I tried to access the Box about an hour ago and I’m locked out. It doesn’t say why, but we’ve got stolen _shit_ in there so it’s probably been tagged."

"Oh my _god_ ,” Chris groaned, falling back on the surface of the mattress. “We’re going to jail. We’re going to jail and I’m going to die, I’m too delicate for prison-”

"Oh shut _up_ ,” Kerry sighed, sitting down heavily on the opposite bed. “We paid for the Box with straight cash, there’s nothing to trace it to us. After it wouldn’t let me use my card to access the Box I got rid of it. I never touched it without gloves. We’re fine. As long as we don’t act like we’re slinking around waiting to get busted for something, no one will give us a second glance.”

"Yeah, save for the giant fucking letter 'R' on our jackets."

"We have other clothes, _Chris_. That’s what I mean by fucking laying low. We just take a break, leave our uniforms locked up, act like nothing’s wrong.”

Chris didn’t look calmed by the suggestion. In fact, he’d been acting weird, more than just nervous ever since the incident in Mt. Flint. Kerry was about ready to beat whatever the hell was wrong out of him but Chris saved him the effort, finally blurting it out.

"Kerry, I need to tell you something."

Kerry stopped pacing.

"What."

"Kerry, I-" Chris sat up again, taking a deep breath and whuffing it out. "Kerry I know one of the guys we hit."

Kerry’s expression didn’t change. He spoke very slowly. “What do you mean by that?”

"Dammit Kerry, I didn’t fucking know, okay? The night before we left Iron Springs, at the diner, that guy I sat next to… he seemed like a nice guy. I honestly thought he might be part of Team Rocket, the way he was talking, it kind of came off as secretive, I dunno."

Kerry’s eyes widened but nothing else changed about his posture. “And?”

"And- so yeah, I thought he might be a good friend to make, okay? I didn’t realize he was being all vague and shit because he was traveling with _Michael Jones. And_ -” Chris winced. “And we traded contact info. He has my fucking number, Chris.”

Kerry’s eyes slid closed. “We are _so_ fucked.”

"I know, dammit!" Chris sighed hard, fingers on both hands raking through his hair. "But- he didn’t see me in the caves. I don’t think he knows it was me."

_Can we dare to hope?_

"What makes you think he didn’t recognize you?"

"He would have said something. I know he would. Or. I think he would. I dunno. Wouldn’t he have?"

The facts slowly turned over in Kerry’s head, trying to process the unfolding situation. “Okay. Okay. Yeah, you’re right. If the stuff is tagged as stolen but we haven’t been tracked down, they probably don’t know it’s us.”

"But they know it’s Team Rocket," Chris said softly, the barest traces of regret present in his tone. Kerry pretended not to hear it.

"So we don’t wear the uniforms. That was already the plan."

"Yeah. You’re right."

Kerry shot him a sarcastic smile. “I usually am.”

Chris rolled his eyes. So they’d keep a low profile and wait. Sounded easy enough.

Just boring.

 

Michael and Gavin were both laughing, enjoying light conversation on their way back up to the room. They were barely past the threshold, the door just closing behind them when Michael’s Pokegear signaled an incoming call.

"Do you think it’s the police?" Gavin asked quietly, his voice hopeful.

"That’d be awesome, it seems a little soon though-" his words were cut off, color draining from his face when he saw the name of the caller.

"Michael," Gavin murmured, pressing in earnest when Michael didn’t reply, didn’t do anything. "Michael, who is it?"

Michael swallowed. “It’s Geoff.”

Sitting down on the edge of his bed, Michael took a deep breath and flipped open the screen, accepting the call. He wasn’t prepared for this.

Professor Ramsey’s familiar face on the display brought a pang of nostalgia and homesickness to Michael’s heart, even though his stomach churned with nerves.

"Trainer Michael."

"Hello sir," Michael said quietly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"How are you doing?"

"Ah, fine, sir. Just fine. Just got to Goldboro last night. We-, uh, that is, actually, yeah, um, well the Museum of History was pretty cool. Got to do some preliminary research on the place. Learned a bit about the Gym. I’m gonna check that out tomorrow."

He hadn't told Geoff about Gavin, and he had no desire to have that conversation with Gavin right there in the room.

"Have you caught any new Pokemon lately?"

"Um, not since Iron Springs, really. I’m gonna try and find a Ghost type before challenging Mi- Gym Leader Miles."

Geoff gave him one solid nod of approval. “Good. Sound strategy. Have you seen Ray lately?”

Michael tried not to make a face. “Yesterday, yeah.” He hoped Geoff wouldn’t press for details.

He didn’t, and Michael relaxed by a small margin. Geoff simply nodded again.

"Well I’m glad to hear you’re doing well Michael. I’ll keep checking in with you periodically."

Michael gave Geoff a toothy, nervous grin.

But just when he though he was off the hook, Geoff asked one more question. “That Pokemon breeder there with you?”

From across the room, Michael could see Gavin tense like a mouse spotted by a hawk.

Michael tried not to let his face change expressions. “Yeah, he’s here.”

Again, infuriatingly unreadable, Geoff just nodded. “Right. Well tell him ‘hello’ for me. Talk to you soon, Michael.”

Without further ado, the call ended and the screen of his Gear clicked off. Michael let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Gavin laughed shakily. “I can’t believe you just got a call from Professor Ramsay. He’s bloody famous. And he said 'hello' to me.”

Michael shrugged, tried to play it off. “I’m just glad he wasn’t calling to rip into me.”

There was a long pause between them then, and Michael wondered desperately what Gavin was thinking. He didn’t have to wonder for long.

"How- how did Professor Ramsay know about me?"

Michael tensed. “Gym Leader Ryan must have told him.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. He _might_ have heard about it first from Ryan. Michael wasn’t sure he was ready yet to tell Gavin that their association to each other was currently prime gossip in the upper levels of the Pokemon League.

Gavin gave a brief nod and shrug. “Weird.” But he left it at that.

With a growing weight in the pit of his stomach, Michael knew that sooner or later it was a conversation they would have to have, uncomfortable or not.

But not that night.

No, it was just so fucking _nice_ to not be drenched in rain or sweat or both, nice to not be caked in dirt or covered in dust. That night, Michael wanted peace.

After settling further into the room, Gavin admittedly shyly that he wanted to review the information he’d collected, and Michael just grinned and told him to go for it. In minutes Gavin was already spreading the notes he’d taken at the museum out in front of him on his bed. _Surrounding himself in the ramblings of a madman_ , Michael thought to himself with an affectionate smile on his lips. He had some research of his own that he should be doing as it was, digging his book on Psychic types out of his bag and arranging it on his cross-legged lap.

It was nice, Michael decided, sitting in quiet companionship with Gavin.

He felt he could get used to it.


	2. Chapter 2

Two sets of eyes went wide at the sight of the massive sandstone pyramid, rising up out of the far end of Goldboro with the desert sprawling out behind it.

"Christ alive," Gavin whispered.

Michael could only nod. It was one thing to read about such a structure or see a photograph, but to see it looming out of the dunes, and those _statues_ -

Leading up to the Goldboro Gym’s entrance was a long stone ramp with a gradual incline, lined with towering columns and impressive carvings. And right at the entrance, one on either side, were twin monolithic stone Kadabras.

Michael let out a deep sigh. “Okay. Let’s check this thing out then.”

They were about halfway up the ramp when Gavin tensed, sensing movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned quickly, eyes going wide and mouth stretching into a huge grin at what he saw.

"Michael," he whispered excitedly, reaching for the Pokedex in his back pocket. "Michael look-“

Michael turned around with a hint of annoyance that immediately faded when he saw what had grabbed Gavin’s attention.

"Abra," read the digital voice of Gavin’s Pokedex. "A Psi Pokemon."

Seated on the edge of one of the sandstone walls lining the ramp was a tiny, yellow Psychic Pokemon, it’s legs stuck out straight in front of it, comically large feet dangling off the edge, appearing to be silently observing them, head cocked to the side.

"Fucking _nice_ ,” Michael hissed, hands twitching at his belt. “We’ll figure out later who gets it, I got this right now.”

Michael reached for the first Pokeball on his belt, taking a wide stance as he braced for a battle. Gavin’s Pokedex continued to narrate:

"Even while asleep, it maintains a telepathic radar. It teleports when it is threatened."

"It doesn’t _look_ threatened,” Gavin breathed.

The Abra cocked it’s head to the other side. Just as Michael threw Dash into play, Gavin spoke again.

"Michael, I don’t know if we’re allowed to do this right here-"

"Go, Dash!"

Dash sprung forward with a burst of light, perched on the opposite wall from the Abra. Michael didn’t even have a chance to utter a command before the Abra warped straight up into the air and the digital voice of his Pokegear cheerfully explained “Wild Abra has used teleport!”

Michael frowned, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose from where they’d slid down. “Alright Dash, get back.”

"Most Trainers wait until they’re inside the Gym, yanno."

Both Michael and Gavin jumped at the strange voice, turning as one to see the dark-haired man with neatly groomed facial hair standing between them and the Gym’s entrance. He wore loose, flowing pants and a belted robe in dark, earthy colors, worn open to the navel, a similarly colored headband adorning his hairline.

Michael had the decency to look embarrassed. “Sorry about that. I’ve never seen an Abra before in person.”

The robed man turned around to smile affectionately at the pyramid. “They’re attracted to this place. Something about it resonates with them, calls to them. Old, powerful energy lives within the stones of Goldboro.” He must have sensed the confusion in Michael and Gavin’s expressions and decided to take pity on them. “I suppose I should introduce myself.”

"Do you work in the Gym?" Gavin asked innocently.

The man smirked. “You could say that. The name’s Miles. Gym Leader Miles.”

Michael winced, wondering how much trouble he could get in for trying to catch native Pokemon at the Gym’s front door. “Ah, again, sorry about all that. My names Michael.”

Miles eyes went a little wide, the corner of his lips creeping up. “Would you happen to be the infamous Trainer Michael? Professor Ramsay’s student?”

"I don’t know if I’d call myself infamous," Michael murmured, rubbing self-consciously at the back of his neck. "This is Gavin," he added quickly, before Miles could try and guess.

Gym Leader Miles nodded slowly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I was wondering when you’d be getting here. Your rival, Trainer Ray came by this morning to scope things out. I assume he plans to challenge me tomorrow.”

Michael nodded in return, turning the information over in his head. He wasn’t ready to challenge for another two days, but this was the closest he’d been to Ray so far. He wondered if Gym Leader Miles knew what a useful piece of knowledge he’d just gifted Michael with. “I see,” he replied vaguely. “Well, I’m basically here for the same reason.”

Miles smiled in approval. “Then I’ll tell you the same thing I told him. I can’t let you into the Gym itself until you’re actually ready to make your challenge. Our Gym here in Goldboro is… unique. There are ancient traditions we adhere to. When you’re ready to come inside, you’ll understand.”

Michael frowned, but didn’t voice his disappointment. As long as Ray hadn’t been allowed inside either, he supposed he could live with it. “Fair enough,” he conceded with a rueful smile. “I guess I should get to training, then.”

Miles grinned. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

 

"Where are you planning to train?" Gavin asked as they wandered the streets of Goldboro. It was obvious now to him why they called it the City of Sand. Every building was expertly crafted of stone from the local quarries, ranging from pale tans to deep, rich oranges, all in the hues of the desert. The painted, gilded rooftops shown brightly in the high noon sun, reflecting it’s glory.

"Probably back in the caves. I still need to get a Ghost type."

Gavin paled a little and Michael couldn’t blame him. “Hey, I know, I’m sorry. I don’t wanna go back in there either.”

"I just- don’t want to lose anything else," Gavin said quietly and Michael instantly regretted bringing it up.

"You won’t, okay? The police are seriously gonna call any second now."

Gavin tried to smile but only got about halfway there. He’d felt so confident the day before after talking to the police. Now though, still with no word, it was difficult to stay positive.

Michael raked his brain for an alternative. “Well maybe there’s somewhere else we could go, yeah? Maybe there’s some Ghost types out in the ruins at night, on the other side of town?”

Gavin actually laughed a little at that. “Michael that sounds _terrifying_ , that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

Michael let out an exasperated sigh, turning to smile at Gavin. “Well yeah, they’re _Ghosts_ , things are probably gonna get a little creepy. You were so excited about it before we went into the mountain.” While Gavin didn’t wince _too_ hard, Michael still regretted his choice of words. “Ah, sorry man. You know what I mean.”

Gavin shrugged and nodded, giving Michael a playful shove. “Yeah, I know. Just… _ruins_ , you know? And all that spooky whatnot back in the museum? That stuff gives me the willies. Who knows what we’re gonna find out there.”

Michael grinned. “Well don’t worry, I’ll be there with you.”

Gavin rolled his eyes and Michael laughed and it took the two of them a moment to realize that Gavin’s Pokegear was ringing with an incoming call. They both froze, looked at each other, then back at the Gear. Gavin scrambled to get it open.

An Officer’s friendly face was waiting on the tiny screen.

 

” _Theodora!_ ”

Michael slowly folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall of the police station. A content smile played across his face, eyes half-lidded. He watched on from a distance as Gavin embraced his Pokemon.

After Gavin’s battle with Ray back in the caves of Mt. Flint, Michael had made a decision not to doubt Gavin’s judgement when it came to what Pokemon he welcomed onto his team. It should have been obvious that Gavin was raising a Magikarp to evolve. Therefore, Michael kept his opinions to himself as he watched Gavin hug his ridiculous Feebas, it’s wide, unfocused eyes staring off in two separate directions. Gavin’s hands affectionately brushed against her rough scales before calling her back to her ball, clipping it onto his belt with a sigh of relief. He’d just given the same treatment to his Nincada, and Michael felt a knot of tension release somewhere deep in the muscles of his back.

He waited patiently while Gavin filled out the necessary paperwork to complete the whole debacle.

Gavin’s shoulders were pushed back, his head high with a blissful smile as they stepped back out into the open air of Goldboro. Every few steps they took down the wide streets, Michael noticed that Gavin would brush his thumb against the Pokeballs on his belt, as if to reassure himself that they were still there. Yet it didn’t seem like a nervous gesture, more affectionate than that, as if he were doing it for their benefit more than his own.

After they’d gone a few blocks without any real destination in mind, Gavin finally let out a sigh, turning to look at Michael with an easy smile.

"So. Now what?"

Michael chewed his bottom lip in thought, staring off in the direction of the ruins. “Well there’s no point in heading out there until the sun goes down. We’ve already been to the museum. Did you have something in mind you wanted to check out here in town?”

"I wonder if Chris is here in Goldboro," Gavin thought aloud, not really paying attention to what he was saying. He didn’t notice for a few seconds that Michael’s expression had changed from calm and relaxed to tight and on edge.

"Who is Chris?" he asked with suppressed emotion.

Gavin’s face went blank. “Didn’t I tell you-” he asked, cutting himself off by snapping his jaw shut and rubbing at the back of his neck. “Maybe I didn’t. Ah, sorry Michael, everything just got so crazy after we left Iron Springs I guess I forgot to tell you.”

Michael kept his face carefully neutral. He wasn’t mad _at_ Gavin, but this information would have been nice to know earlier. “Tell me what?”

"Well it’s nothing important," Gavin answered defensively, picking up on Michael’s emotional state. "Our last night in Iron Springs, after you got your badge and went to bed early, I went out to grab a meal. Struck up conversation with this guy around our age at the diner, we exchanged contact info, that’s all. He seemed nice, had all sorts of interesting stories about Iron Springs and the things he’d seen there." Michael’s mouth was still set in a thin line and Gavin let out an exasperated sigh. "The only reason I didn’t mention it before it that it was so normal I _forgot_ , okay?”

Michael closed his eyes and let out his breath. “I’m sorry, I’m not mad at you or anything. I’m just pissed off that the police didn’t have a better answer for us than they did and right now everyone’s suspicious as far as I’m concerned.”

"I got my Pokemon back, Michael, I’d say they did a pretty good job."

"But those Team Rocket assholes are still out there."

"Michael, _please_ tell me you’re not going to do anything stupid like try and go after them.”

Michael bit his tongue, only because that was exactly what he’d been planning on doing.

"Michael you told me that we were going to avoid Team Rocket at all costs."

"Yeah, well, that was before they fucked with us," Michael spat, keeping his next thought to himself. _That was before they messed with Gavin_.

Gavin looked away, clearly uncomfortable, and Michael deigned it time to change the subject. “Well. Maybe you should give your friend a call.”

 

Cold sweat beaded at the back of Chris’s neck. He shouldn’t have come. Kerry had told him it was a bad idea and he should have _listened_ to him, dammit. It had to be a trap. Gavin and Michael had made their police report almost three days prior. They’d kept their profile low, he and Kerry, only leaving their Inn to get food. They’d decided that if a week went by without incident, they’d move on to the next town. Chris had finally start to let himself believe that they might get away unscathed-

Until that morning, when Chris’s Gear had gone off, displaying Gavin’s incoming call-request. At Kerry’s slow nod, he’d answered. Gavin had sounded normal enough, and that in and of itself was frighteningly suspicious. He’d asked if Chris was in Goldboro, and if he’d like to meet for lunch. That was all. No mention of Michael, no concern or accusation.

Back in the room, Chris had dared to hope that he’d been right back in the caves, that Gavin hadn’t recognized him and really did just want to meet for lunch. But as Chris sat in the booth by himself, waiting, doubt and panic started to creep in.

 _I should have listened to Kerry, dammit, there’s no way this isn’t a trap_ -

Before he could bolt away back to the comfort of the Inn, he saw Gavin enter the diner. Carefully, he unbunched his shoulders and let himself slink back into a more nature sitting position. He plastered a smile to his face.

Like that night back in Iron Springs, Gavin wasn’t wearing his apron or bandana. Right then, he wasn’t Pokemon Breeder Gavin, traveling companion to Trainer Michael Jones, League Wonderboy. No, right then he was just Gav, and Chris greeted him as such, letting the nickname roll off his tongue, testing it out.

Gavin smiled and gave a wave of greeting when he caught sight of Chris. Chris swallowed hard and tried to hide it. The casual way Gavin regarded him, the way he sat down and reached for the menu, none of it gave Chris any sense that Gavin knew the truth. Either Gavin was a fantastic actor, or things might not be a disaster after all. Maybe Chris really _was_ about to simply have a nice lunch.

"How long have you been in Goldboro?" Gavin asked after placing his order, taking a sip of his drink.

Chris glanced to the side for a distraction, his fingers toying with the little packets of sugar.

"Ah, a couple days," he replied without looking up. He hadn’t told Gavin about Kerry back in Iron Springs. Then again, Gavin hadn’t told Chris about Michael. These were dangerous waters. "You?"

"About the same," Gavin nodded, resting his chin in his hand. He looked relaxed. Chris wished, deeply, that he could feel the same way. "Have you checked out the museum in town yet?"

Chris shook his head. “Haven’t really been able to do anything, honestly.” He let a hint of genuine regret creep into his voice.

Gavin’s head cocked to the side. “Really? That’s a shame. This place is amazing. I had no idea about the history of the town.”

Chris kept the smile on his face as he let Gavin talk, grateful when their food arrived so he’d have an excuse not to make too much conversation. While he was relieved, he also realized full well that he wasn’t out of the quicksand yet. While Gavin might not suspect Chris as being part of the robbery, he was now intwined in his life and Chris was already having to weave a delicate web of lies and half-truths to sidestep questions that would bring it all crashing down.

The regret ran deep. He _wanted_ to be Gavin’s friend. He also knew Kerry would throttle him if he wandered too far down that path.

There was something about Gavin that seemed different than back in Iron Springs. A little more confident. Less awkward. There was excitement in his eyes. Chris knew without having to ask that Gavin must have had his Pokemon returned to him. Maybe after enough time gone by, maybe once it wouldn’t matter anymore-

His thoughts were interrupted when Gavin abruptly sat up, giving his neck a little stretch and gathering himself. “Well thanks for joining me, I’ve actually gotta get going.”

Chris tried to hide the disappointment on his face. “Oh, ah, right. Well it was good catching up, maybe we can do it again before you leave town?”

He thought he saw Gavin frown for a split second, but then it was gone, replaced by his usual easy-going smile. “Maybe, yeah. That’d be nice.”

Chris smiled, rising to follow Gavin to the door. It was quickly obvious once outside that they were going separate ways, and Chris gave a friendly nod as he turned in the direction of his Inn.

"Hey Chris," Gavin called out. Chris turned in slightly confusion. "Just be careful, yeah? I actually got robbed just outside of town." He didn’t give Chris a chance to reply before smiling and trotting off in his own direction. "I’m running late, take care!"

Chris stood staring after him, feeling significantly worse than he had before their nice little lunch.

He swallowed hard as his meal sat like dead weight in his stomach.

 

Gavin was only a few minutes later than he told Michael he’d be when he stepped over the threshold to their room at the Inn. He half suspected Michael to be pacing and impatient, but was pleasantly surprised to see Michael bonding with his new Ghost Pokemon.

They had in fact gone out to the ruins the night before. According to local gossip, the Ghost types only came out when the moon was up, and were rare at that. They’d spent hours carefully prowling the massive structures of broken stone. Just when Michael had been about to give up, Gavin had grabbed him excitedly by the sleeve, pointing towards a wispy, graceful little Pokemon with sweet eyes and dark power.

Now Michael’s Misdreavus hovered about a foot off the surface of Michael’s bed, where he was seated cross legged, smiling.

He’d named her Minerva.

Michael turned at the sound of Gavin’s footfall, summoning Minerva back to her ball and stretching his arms over his head. “So how’d it go?”

Gavin pursed his lips and shrugged. “Fine. Just grabbed a bite. I just talked a bunch, mostly.”

Michael nodded and almost changed the subject, when something Gavin had told him before itched at the back of his thoughts. “Huh. Did he have any recommendations for stuff to do here in town?”

Gavin tiled his head to the side at the question. “Ah, not really. Why?”

"It’s probably nothing. You just said that back in Iron Springs he was chatting your ear off about everything under the sun. The theater, the stores, the sights. I was kind of hoping he’d know something I didn’t about Goldboro."

Gavin let that turn over in his brain. “I didn’t really think anything of it at the time.” Michael arched an eyebrow when he paused, waiting for him to go on. “It’s just that- hmm. Yeah, he didn’t say much at all. Weird.”

Michael it was a bit more than just “weird” but kept it to himself. He wanted, desperately, to meet this Chris person. He tried to tell himself that it was out of general suspicion, but deep down knew it was equally due to jealously. He was barely willing to admit that to himself, let alone voice it to Gavin.

"Well what’s he doing here in Goldboro, anyways?"

Gavin chewed his lip. “He didn’t say. And honestly I didn’t ask.”

"Well is he a trainer?"

"No, he told me he wasn’t back in Iron Springs."

Yet again, Michael bit down on an outburst, but Gavin could see it in his eyes.

"Michael, just spit it out. Whatever you wanna say, just say it."

Michael didn’t respond, darting his eyes off to the side.

"You don’t seriously think Chris is in Team Rocket, do you?"

"Why, do _you_ think he is?”

"No, that’s ridiculous." Gavin’s eyes were wide, as if the possibility hadn’t even occurred to him until he’d read the doubt written all over Michael’s face. He hesitated, as the same thoughts slowly crawled into his brain. "Isn’t it?"

"He’s probably not," Michael said slowly, his eyes shifting to linger on Gavin’s belt, and the two balls that had been absent for almost three days. HIs lips thinned in dull anger. "But maybe I should be there the next time you see him."

Gavin glanced at the Gear on his wrist, and for a moment Michael thought that maybe he’d overstepped himself. But then Gavin nodded.

 

Back in his Inn, Chris stared at a wall. Kerry was out, had been since he’d returned from his meet-up with Gavin. Alone with his thoughts, he’d played every terrible possibility through his mind. He was basically convinced that Gavin knew exactly what had happened that night in the caves. Then he’d play the conversation once again through his mind, the memory of Gavin’s easy, relaxed body language. Maybe he didn’t. The back and forth was excruciating.

All this over two infuriatingly common Pokemon. With a pang of shame, Chris could admit to himself that even if the two of them had succeeded in sending the stolen Pokemon to Headquarters, it wouldn’t have earned them anything more than a routine pat on the back, at most. And now they were laying low, hiding from the authorities, dancing on the knife-edge of making enemies with the Golden Boy of the League.

Chris ground his teeth, eyes sliding closed, beating himself over the head for the ten thousandth time for getting into this mess.

His Pokegear started to ring with an incoming call.

Opening his eyes slowly, Chris reached for it off the meager bedside table. Gavin’s contact info was displayed. Chris felt his heart jump into his throat.

Acting on impulse, he took the call.

 

"What do you mean he wants you to meet Michael?"

Chris winced under Kerry’s outburst. “That’s just what he said! He didn’t outright _say_ who Michael was, but I don’t know who the hell else he could be. He just said that he was traveling with someone, and wanted us all to meet up.”

Kerry sat down with a heavy sigh. “Did it really go that badly?”

"What?"

"Your fucking _lunch date_.”

Chris turned his head to the side and flushed hard. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

Kerry wiped his palm over his face. “Look, I’m sorry. We’ve gotta stick together, alright? Why did you agree to meet Michael without talking to me?”

"Because he fucking put me on the spot and you weren’t here! Where the hell were you, anyways?"

"Getting supplies." Kerry gestured towards the bag from the Pokemart he’d stopped at. "We’ll be skipping town in a few days, remember? I don’t wanting us buying shit right when we’re leaving. Don’t want to look suspicious."

Chris rolled his eyes.

Team Rocket wasn’t supposed to hide. They weren’t supposed to lurk in the shadows like scared children. They weren’t supposed to bow to any authority. At least that was what they’d been told by the charismatic recruiters who’d shoved paperwork in their hands and promised wealth and glory.

 _And now look at us_.

"Did he say anything about me?" Kerry asked.

"No, I haven’t mentioned you. And since you were the one mouthing off back in Mt. Flint, I figured it’d be best you didn’t tag along."

Kerry’s face colored with anger. “At least I had the balls to speak up back there!”

Chris rose up off his spot on the bed, using the advantage of his heigh to loom over Kerry, who also stood in acceptance to the implied challenge. “And what should I have done exactly, huh? Let Gavin see my face and have a paper trial to hand over to the League Officers? At least I was _thinking_ back there!”

Kerry turned his back to Chris in a huff, but his shoulders immediately sagged. “I was just trying to do my job.”

"Yeah, so was I."

With a heavy sigh, Kerry sat back down. “So what are you gonna do?”

Chris sat as well. “I think I’m going to have to meet up with them.”

Kerry turned back around to face Chris, and for the first time since they’d arrived in Goldboro, Chris sensed vulnerability in his eyes. _At least we’re together in this mess_ , he thought to himself. _I don’t know what I’d do if it was just me_.

"Alright," Kerry finally replied. "When do they want to meet up?"

With every passing moment, Chris was regretting his decision, for all that he knew it was inevitable. Within the next two days, Michael would be challenging the Goldboro Gym. After that, they’d be off to Redstone Towers to take on the next Gym, at least according to Gavin. Which meant that there was really only one feasible opportunity for them to spend an hour or so together. Over the Gear, Chris has agreed with a forced smile on his face, but Kerry read the strain and tension easily enough as he answered.

"Tomorrow."


	3. Chapter 3

Executive Commander Jordan smiled as he turned away from the massive digital display screen in his comfortable chair. Team Rocket had lots of silent eyes scattered throughout the region.

 _Lots of diligent little spies_ , Jordan thought to himself with a slow, wry grin. He let a hand drop down to the side to stroke the face of the bulky, purple-gray feline Pokemon sitting obediently next to his chair. His fingers absently scratched the soft fur between the large, fluffy ears.

"Are you sure?" he asked, looking up to meet the gaze of his fellow Commander.

Executive Commander Kara arched a defiant brow.

"Quite sure." Like Jordan she smiled, and like Jordan the expression was somehow empty of any sort of kindness.

So. Two of their new recruits were tangling with Professor Ramsey’s Wonderboy.

"Does the Boss know?"

"Not yet."

Jordan bridged his fingers, resting his chin upon them.

Jordan’s Purugly cocked it’s head to the side and looked up at him with blatant distain. To be fair to the Pokemon, that was the only face it was capable of making.

"Good."

Executive Commander Kara’s eyes narrowed at the satisfied look on his face.

The upper levels of Team Rocket were in constant motion, an intricate dance of alliances and betrayal. All four Executive Commanders had risen to their rank through the dregs of manipulation and ruthless self-interest. None were loyal to each other, though they’d smile sweetly at one another from the corners of their mouths. All four only truly answered to the Boss.

And all four had their own secret plans of usurpation.

Jordan’s smiled took on a painful level of saccharine sweetness as he saw the fury burn in the back of Kara’s eyes.

"I don’t answer to _you_ , Jordan.”

"Ah, now don’t be so cold Kara. We’re on the same Team after all."

Kara’s smile could have melted steel. “Of course.”

"Why tell me and not the Boss if you didn’t intend for us to work together?"

Secrets. Secrets and lies. Jordan had been keeping track of Trainer Michael’s progress, as was the rest of the entire region. The boy had become a bit of a shadow celebrity. A household name already and he probably didn’t even realize it. And all the more intriguing was that Breeder he had along with him. A Breeder whose skills were not to be underestimated according to the silent whisperers hidden in Goldboro who were loyal to Jordan. They were saying that he’d defeated Trainer Ray, Michael’s rival.

They were saying lots of things.

Completely by accident, two inexperienced grunts had robbed them. The Pokemon they’d stolen hadn’t even made it out of the initial PC Box. But now Michael Jones had a bone to pick with Team Rocket, and while another Executive Commander might be annoyed, Jordan’s mind was already spinning schemes, gears churning along quickly, exercising the same skills that had earned him his rank. A dangerous game of chess was about to begin. The pieces were slowly falling into place, and Jordan fully intended to have control over the outcome.

If he were able to take full advantage of the forming situation, he could earn the unrivaled favor of the Boss. And once there he could put his true plan into motion.

Kara watched him as if trying to read his thoughts. Jordan didn’t doubt for a moment that in her mind were intentions just as sinister and delicate as his own.

"I don’t want the Boss to hear it from me yet. Especially if I’m wrong."

"So you’re willing to tell it to _me_ as truth, hoping I’ll slip up, is that it?”

Kara smiled in the same false, dangerous way that Jordan had been since she’d walked into the room. “Now why would I do a thing like that?”

Jordan snorted and turned back to the screen. Team Rocket had long ago broken into the network of security cameras around the region used by the League Police. With the press of a button, Jordan could look into every nook and cranny that the legitimate authorities had access to. And while it was hardly every corner of the map, it was an upper hand that often proved devastating to those who would stand in their way. And it was a power that Jordan alone held access to, as the Surveillance Commander.

"What is it you actually want, Kara?"

"The same as you," she replied, slowly walking forward until she stood directly behind his chair, swishing her hips from side to side as she walked, bringing her gloved hands to rest on Jordan’s shoulders. "Power. Glory. Favor with the Boss." Her fingers carefully pressed down and kneaded the tight muscle. Jordan tensed, grateful that she couldn’t see his face and the way his eyes closed and his lips parted. Members of Team Rocket were wise not to show genuine emotion, even something so simple as pleasure. Emotions were a weakness to be exploited.

"Mmm, yes. So again, why tell me these things? Why not keep the information to yourself?"

He already knew the answer. Kara, the Acquisition Commander, wanted use of his thousands of little eyes peppered throughout the land. Cameras that were all linked to this room. A room that fell under Jordan’s jurisdiction.

Four Executive Commanders. Surveillance, Misinformation, Acquisition, Destruction. Spying, lying, stealing and mayhem. All four working together. All four ready to stab the others in the back. The glorious abomination machine known as Team Rocket.

Jordan didn’t wait for an answer, as one probably wasn’t coming anyways. Kara continued to knead his shoulders, her silence palpable.

"Alright Kara," he finally murmured. "I’ll let you make use of the tools of Surveillance for the greater good of following Michael Jones’ progress and his interaction with our two wayward Grunts. What’s in it for me?"

Her hands pulled away from Jordan’s shoulders and despite himself, he turned around to meet her gaze, instantly hating himself for the moment of weakness when he saw the cruel satisfaction in her eyes.

"You’ll see."

 

Team Rocket Grunt Chris squirmed under Michael’s scrutiny. He’d been glaring at Chris from the moment they’d met, all throughout the greetings and the introductions and the handshakes. He’d been glaring while Gavin talked and laughed, he glared when Chris did anything at all.

Half of Chris was now determined that Michael at least suspected his involvement in the robbery.

The other half of him was starting to believe the whispered rumors about the true nature of Michael and Gavin’s relationship.

Maybe it was both.

Chris inwardly winced. He’d smiled and played it dumb throughout their initial introduction. He’d faked surprise and delight upon “learning” that this friend of Gavin’s who he wanted Chris to meet was none other than Trainer Michael Jones, protege of the great Professor Ramsey, holder of two League badges and on the cusp of earning a third. Yet the look on Michael’s face indicated that he stared straight through the mask, and Chris suspected it was only respect for Gavin that had prevented Michael from dragging him off to interrogate.

Gavin had suggested something neutral for their small gathering. The three of them had grabbed a light early lunch and then perused a specialty shop for Breeders. Chris would make a comment and Michael would either correct or undercut him. Gavin seemed oblivious to it all, but he might have just been trying to keep the peace.

More than anything, Chris wanted to come clean and drop the charade. He wanted to confess and beg forgiveness. And maybe, just maybe, he’d still be able to maintain a friendship with Gavin. Deep down though, he knew it wasn’t possible. He’d dared to dream, but that was before meeting Michael. Now he knew with a certainty that Michael would do everything in his power to destroy Chris if he learned the truth. _Besides_ , he thought with a silent sigh. _Even if the Earth decided to halt on it’s axis and start spinning in the opposite direction, I’d still be barred from the League_. He’d already closed one road to himself. Confessing to Gavin would get him kicked out of Team Rocket, or at least cost him his partnership with Kerry. And then what would he have?

Before meeting Michael, he’d allowed himself to hope. Now, he just wanted to keep his secret long enough to get out of Goldboro in one piece.

 

"I don’t like him."

Gavin pursed his lips and sighed. “Yes, you made that pretty obvious.”

Michael frowned and crossed his arms, glancing to the side. He knew he’d been just shy of hostile during their meeting with Chris. He hadn’t cared, not at the time. Now though, under Gavin’s stare, he was starting to feel the slightest pangs of guilt.

Silence dragged on.

” _Why_ don’t you like him?”

 _Because you do_. The words threatened to spill past Michael’s lips but he kept a tight reign on them.

"He seems fake." And that much at least had a sliver of truth to it. Chris’s attitude had seemed a little too bubbly for Michael’s enjoyment. Anyone that over-the-top cheerful was either hiding something or an idiot, so far as Michael was concerned.

Gavin sighed. “If I didn’t know any better Michael, I’d think you were jealous.”

Michael’s body went stiff and cold at the accusation. The ice burned away with hot embarrassment as he realized that Gavin was right. Ever since that first night here in Goldboro after they’d crawled out of the caves, the night that Gavin had sobbed on Michael’s shoulder and he’d kissed him on the forehead, Michael had made a point to keep Gavin at arm’s length. His feelings were spiraling out of control and they had enough on their plate without throwing _that_ particular wrench into the gears.

When Michael didn’t immediately respond, Gavin’s lips went thin.

The silence was awful.

Gavin watched him, watched the subtle changes in his expression that he was trying desperately to conceal. “You are, aren’t you?”

It had been four days since he’d held Gavin against his chest, ran his fingers through his hair. Four nights of plagued dreams of Gavin’s breath against his ear, skin against skin. He woke up every morning with a longing in his chest and an ache in his loins.

And there had been Chris, with his bright eyes and generous smile. Tall and slender like Gavin. And Gavin had laughed at his jokes and smiled at him and asked for his advice on his purchases. Chris, whose existence he hadn’t been made aware of until two days before. Oh sure, it was easy to suspect him of being involved in the robbery. But Michael would be lying to himself if he tried to insist that that was the main reason for his animosity.

Michael stared at a fixed spot on the floor. This was a crossroads he hadn’t wanted to find himself at, not yet, not before he’d decided what he was going to do. He could lie, sure, and tell Gavin that he wasn’t jealous, smile and play it off. And then watch as Gavin scampered off, free to pursue whoever he wished. Still though, telling the truth could prove even more devastating.

Michael hadn’t noticed Gavin was moving until he was sitting down next to him on the side of Michael’s bed at the Inn.

"Michael."

Michael didn’t respond.

” _Michael_ ,” Gavin persisted with a little more conviction, reaching out to grab at his shoulder. Michael tensed and blinked, but still couldn’t tear his eyes away from the floor.

Gavin let out a long heavy sigh, as though he was on the precipice of a reveal himself.

"Michael, I know what they’re saying about us."

 _That_ certainly got Michael’s attention. His head snapped around to look at Gavin with wide eyes and red cheeks. “What-“

"I’m not stupid, Michael."

Another wave of guilt crashed over him and Michael’s shoulders sagged as he buried his face in his hands. “I didn’t want you to find out.”

Gavin let out a short, rough laugh. “Why?”

"What do you mean ‘why’? It’s fucking embarrassing."

Now it was Gavin’s turn to flush, but in anger, not shame. He stood up so quickly that Michael was caught completely off guard, his stoic demeanor falling to pieces as he watched Gavin rise and inadvertently reached out for him, catching himself but not quick enough, earning a deeper scowl from Gavin.

"So I’m an embarrassment."

"What? Gavin no, that’s not what I meant-“

"Isn’t it? No, I get it Michael. You’re the rising star of the League and I’m some backwater peasant from Cobbleton. Why the hell would you want to be associated with me, right?"

Michael’s anger spiked, rising up to meet Gavin eye to eye. “What the fuck are you _talking_ about? We’re a _team_ Gavin, I-“

"Yeah, I’m great for advice but as soon as anyone suggests we’re more than that you shut down on me, like you can’t even stand to think about it-"

"Gavin, we’re _not_ more than that-“

"Do you even understand what you’re putting me through? One day you’ve got your hands all over me and the next it’s strictly professional, like nothing even happened!"

” _Don’t you think I want to?_ " Michael yelled the question inches from Gavin’s face, hands clenched at his sides. "I’m not into guys! _You’re_ not into guys!”

"Maybe if you would actually talk to me instead of just assuming-"

Gavin didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence due to the fact that Michael had shoved him against the wall of the room, crushing their mouths together. Both of Gavin’s wrists were pinned on either side of his head, Michael’s eyes shut tight, forcing Gavin’s jaw open with his tongue, demandingly. The muscles in Gavin’s body tensed like tightly-wound whipcord, frozen in shock until the moment Michael tongue swept into his mouth. Then he melted, eyes sliding closed, his arms going limp against Michael’s restraining pin.

The moment Gavin kissed back, Michael freed his wrists, and in that same instance Gavin brought his arms up to twine around Michael’s shoulders. His head tilted slightly to the side, giving Michael better access to his mouth.

Michael gasped hard for breath after a few more heated seconds, and for one brief instant Gavin saw panic in his eyes, like he was just going to pull away, again, and pretend it hadn’t happened.

Gavin threaded his fingers through the beltloops of Michael’s pants, yanking hard.

Michael’s eyes went wide at the display of aggression. Gavin’s kiss-bruised lips quirked into that cocky grin Michael was seeing more and more of lately. Something dark and primal was starting to uncoil in the pit of Michael’s stomach. Again, Michael leaned forward.

If the first kiss had been raw and barely controlled, this time Michael went in with fine-tuned skill, fueled by a passion he’d let simmer for far too long. One of his hands threaded into the back of Gavin’s hair, keeping him still as Michael’s lips found Gavin’s neck. The other reached for Gavin’s knee, hiking it up around Michael’s hip. Gavin’s eyes closed as his head tilted hard to the side, barring more of his neck to Michael’s tongue and teeth, groaning aloud.

Gavin’s hands clawed at Michael’s back, trying to pull him closer, fingers tangling up in the material of his shirt. They were both utterly lost to the moment, feelings they’d both been hiding and denying rising to the surface.

"Oh my god," Gavin breathed out when Michael rolled his hips forward, deliberately, letting Gavin feel exactly what this was doing to him. "Michael, I-"

Again, Michael didn’t let him finish, rising up from the crook of Gavin’s neck where he’d left a series of messy, wet bruises, bringing their mouths together once more. Michael could feel Gavin’s body tensing, trembling, could feel his heart pounding, could feel his breath catch in his throat. Michael hadn’t intended to keep rubbing his hips against Gavin’s crotch, but after that initial contact he couldn’t stop, his grip firm on the underside of Gavin’s knee, holding his leg up high against Michael’s waist. Michael was hard, painfully, _painfully_ hard and it just felt so good to grind his denim-clad erection against Gavin’s body. Gavin’s arms were tangled tight around Michael shoulders, and when their lips broke apart for breath, Michael found the ground being pulled out from beneath him when Gavin started murmuring dirty encouragement against his ear.

”- _yeah, come on, that feel good yeah?_ ”

Michael hadn’t known Gavin had it in him, and it was the harsh whisper of his voice with that fucking accent that unexpectedly and unceremoniously shoved Michael over the edge, pulling Gavin’s body desperately against his own as he came in his pants with Gavin’s name on his lips.

For a while they stayed like that, Michael trembling, bracing himself against the wall with an open palm, his legs weak and threatening to give out.

"Ah," he finally managed to gasp out. "Sorry, I can-" Michael reached clumsily for the fly of Gavin’s pants, but Gavin just batted him away with a shaky laugh.

"It’s okay," he said breathlessly, also relying heavily on the support of the wall. Michael didn’t have to ask for further explanation when he saw the sated, half-lidded look to Gavin’s eyes, realizing that the other man had beat him to it.

Michael answered the shaky laugh with one of his own, slowly pulling away and walking backwards for a few steps until the backs of his legs his the bed, letting himself slowly sink down onto it. “Fucking _hell_.”

Puffing breath from his cheeks, Gavin took a few unsteady steps forward of his own, looking down at himself, at the wrinkled state of his clothes, at the stain on the front of his pants that was becoming more uncomfortable with every passing moment.

"I should get cleaned up," Gavin said with a shy smile before disappearing into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Michael watched him go, staring at the closed door as he had countless times before.

But this time, instead of staring with confused longing, he smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

Leather and coarse rubber scuffed against the worn, ancient stone steps of the Goldboro Gym.

Trainer Micahel let out a deep breath.

The last time he’d trekked up these steps he’d been stopped by Gym Leader Miles, turned away until he was “ready”.

Well. He was as ready now as he’d ever be by his own reckoning, but this time the Gym Leader was conspicuously absent.

Gavin swallowed hard next to him, pace for pace as they reached the final top step. The entrance had an indentation about two stories tall, but only gave way to smooth, carved stone. No handle, not even a split in the “door”. Michael scowled at the edifice.

The seconds ticked by, Michael and Gavin frowning in confusion at the lack of fanfare.

_"Our Gym here in Goldboro is… unique. There are ancient traditions we adhere to. When you’re ready to come inside, you’ll understand."_

Miles’ words drifted up from the depths of Michael’s memory.

Without thinking, Michael reached a hand forward, pressing his open palm against the smooth surface of the mysterious entrance.

Gavin and Michael both gasped aloud at the sudden burst of pink-tinged light, filling their vision until they had to shield their eyes with their hands and arms.

Michael heart pounded hard against his ribcage. His training hadn’t told him anything about this. The chapter on Goldboro in his studies hadn’t contained any footnotes about trick doors or special rules about entering the Gym or ancient Psychic Pokemon like he’d seen in the museum-

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Gavin laid a hand on his shoulder, immediately wincing at his own overreaction.

When his vision cleared he saw what Gavin had been trying to draw his attention to. The towering stone that had covered the massive entrance to the Goldboro Gym was gone. Not slid aside, not moved, _gone_.

It was Michael’s turn to swallow hard.

In light of recent events, he didn’t flinch away when Gavin reached for his hand, twining their fingers together. Though his cheeks burned with the blood that rose to the surface, he didn’t pull back. No one was even around. And if they were, well- _The rumors have been going on forever now. Let them look_.

Michael’s brave internal words squeaked away when he heard a masculine voice clear it’s throat somewhere ahead of his current field of vision. Both he and Gavin simultaneously jerked their hands to themselves.

"Trainer Michael."

Michael barely managed not to jump and shriek. As he blinked and let his eyes adjust to the shadows beyond the doorframe, he was able to make out the form of who could only be the Gym Leader.

"Yes," he answered simply.

"I see you’re ready."

Later, Michael would make a point to ask Gavin if he’d felt a similar sensation at that moment, of being weighed, _judged_ \- and the following strange sense of intangible approval. Michael swallowed hard and nodded, somehow aware that it wasn’t _Miles_ who had been performing the judgement.

Right when Gavin and Michael were able to fully make out his facial features, Gym Leader Miles gestured for them to follow and promptly turned back towards the interior of the Gym, leaving them no choice but to follow.

Michael choked on a swear under his breath, taking wide strides forward to keep up with Gavin still a pace behind.

The uniqueness of the Goldboro Gym was obvious the moment they entered. There was no League Official at a desk in the lobby. Hell, there was barely a lobby at all. Miles didn’t look back as he strode forward across the worn, stone floor, passing through a small doorway that opened up into a vast room filled with impressive, painted columns. Michael wondered about how safe it was to hold Pokemon Battles amount such priceless, ancient architecture. _Then again_ , he thought with a growing sense of dread. _Most Psychic moves don’t have intense physical repercussions. Doesn’t make it any less dangerous…_

Other differences became immediately apparent. First and foremost, there were no Senior Trainers. There wasn’t an audience, either. Not that there were stands for them. Just three League Officials seated at a simple yet impressive looking stone table. Gavin gave a slight tug on Michael’s shirt, getting his attention long enough to look at Michael with a face full of questions and worry. This was normally the part where Michael would shrug and give him an easy, confident smile. But Michael felt none of those things and met Gavin’s silent inquisition with a shake of his head and an equally worried frown.

Michael was completely out of his comfort zone, all of his nerves tingling.

Finally, Gym Leader Miles stopped in his tracks. Turning purposefully on the balls of his feet until he was facing Michael and Gavin, he met the two young men with a tight-lipped smiles and his hands clasped together in front of his chest, the fabric of his robes swishing slightly with his movement. The massive interior of the pyramid-turned-Gym was lit entirely with lanterns, though Michael couldn’t help but feel that the flames looked artificial. An ancient monolith with technology running through it’s veins? _Perhaps_ , Michael thought with narrowed eyes. Not wanting to seem easily distracted, he refrained from peering around the Arena. A step behind him, as usual, Gavin didn’t even pretend to hide his curiosity.

"Trainer Michael."

Michael swallowed hard, sparring a glance at Gavin who looked unsure about what he was supposed to be doing.

"Your companion is welcome to take a seat to the left of the judge’s platform."

Michael could have sworn that it hadn’t been there a moment before, yet sure enough there was an empty straight-backed chair set a discreet distances from the Official’s table, and Gavin politely applied himself to the suggestion, ducking aside and into it. Michael gave a weak smile in his direction, immediately missing his presence. Plastering on what he hoped didn’t look too much like a forced smile, he turned to fully face Gym Leader Miles.

Miles, of all the Gym leaders he’d encountered so far, seemed to smile the most. Ryan and Ali had hardly been stoic and reserved, but neither had quite that same infectious, naturally pleasant vibe that Miles exuded.

Michael felt inclined to trust him. Which in turn made him uneasy and put him on even further on guard. _He wants me to trust him. We'll see about that._

"You have been found worthy to compete at the Goldboro Gym, Trainer Michael. I understand if this is all a little bit confusing for you." Again Miles stretched in mouth in a hypnotic grin, inviting Michael to trust, to let his barriers down- With a snap and a firm blink of his eyes, Michael brought himself back to the present.

"I’m here to do my best, sir," Michael responded with a careful, neutral tone.

Miles arched an eyebrow, and somehow made Michael even more uncomfortable. “Your rival said something similar.” He paused, chewed his lip. “And he did. Do his best, that is.”

Though inwardly Michael fumed, he refused to let it show, responding to Gym Leader Miles with a simple, curt nod. “It’s to be expected.”

"Indeed. And what are we to expect of _you_ , Trainer Michael?”

Without further warning, the Gym Leader threw his first Pokemon into play.

"Go, Lunatone!"

Michael groaned and fought against rolling his eyes at the pun. _Of course he has a Lunatone, smartass_. Not that he would say that to a Gym Leader. At least not with Gavin around. Right then though, he had no time for such trivial thoughts.

"Alright. Show ‘em what you’ve got, Minerva!"

Michael did his best to smile confidently when sending his newest Pokemon out into battle. He’d barely trained with her. But Ghost was the best bet against Psychic, uncontested. It made sense to come out with his guns blazing.

It unnerved Michael to battle in a Gym without all of the usual fanfare. He was used to an audience, to voices projected over speakers and the stats of the battle displayed bright and flashy up against a huge, flat screen. His only indications about the status of his challenge came from the Pokegear on his wrist. The simplicity of it all put him on the edge of a knife. He could hear his own breath. He could feel his heart pound against the inside of his chest.

His Misdraevus sat at a comfortable level 23, but he had his doubts about the way the rest of his team would perform against the Gym Leader’s.

At the last moment before the information displayed on the screen of Michael’s Gear, he caught Miles narrowing his eyes.

Michael would get the first move.

He didn’t waste a moment, his first move having been calculated the instant Miles had cast his Lunatone into the ring.

_Guns blazing_.

"Minerva! Use Hex!"

From his seat on the side, Gavin felt the hair on his arms and back of his neck stand on end. It had been one thing to watch Michael catch the Misdraevus out in the ruins. It was quite another to see Michael command that kind of power himself.

Minerva’s eyes glowed an almost sickly red, her normally genial expression narrowing into an eerie scowl. Gavin winced, but managed not to look away.

An ominous purple cloud formed over top of the Lunatone.

Hex wasn’t a Physical attack, and the lack of actual impact left Michael chilled to the bone.

In silence, Michael watched as the health bar of Miles’ Lunatone steadily depleted on the screen of his Gear. “It’s super effective!” Michael heard in a small, tinny voice from the Gear’s speaker. He let out a soft yet emphatic curse under his breath when the bar stopped mere breadths from a full K.O.

"Lunatone! Psywave!"

Michael braced himself for an unexpected surprise, but allowed himself a slow, satisfied grin when Minerva took damage, but barely any in comparison, exactly as he’d hoped. He’d done his research well (with the help of Gavin, of course) and had managed to acquire a Pokemon without a weakness regarding Psychic types.

With a flash of his teeth, Michael struck without mercy.

"Minverva. Astonish."

Not as strong of an attack, but it was enough, especially with the status advantage.

To his credit, Gym Leader Miles didn’t even flinch as he pulled his Lunatone back to its ball.

Michael had taken the last turn, so Miles didn’t waste a breath reaching for the second Pokeball on his belt.

"Get out there, Slowpoke!"

Michael smirked but quickly changed his tune as soon as he saw the speed level Miles had trained his Slowpoke to.

Miles suddenly possessed the advantage.

"Slowpoke, use Confusion!"

Michael bit off a choice retort, grinding his teeth helplessly as the digital voice spoke out of the device on his wrist.

"Minerva has become confused!"

Before Michael had a chance to issue another command, his fears were realized as the Gear continued to narrate.

"Minerva has hurt itself in its confusion!"

Michael’s mouth set into a firm line as he watched the health drain away from the bar on his screen.

” _Fucking hell_ ," Michael hissed under his breath.

"Slowpoke, use Growl!"

Michael had to fight against rolling his eyes. “ _Growl?_ " he muttered.

And then it occurred to him. Maybe Miles _wanted_ him to get to his final Pokemon.

Ice raced up Michael’s spine, from the small of his back to the sensitive nerves at the back of his neck where vertebrae met skull.

Why was that thought so ominous?

Despite his reservations, Michael took advantage of the alleged throwaway move to launch a vicious offensive.

"Once again! Minerva, Hex!"

Keeping a close eye on the PP left on his strongest move, Michael invoked the powerful Ghost attack once more, tightening his fist in victorious satisfaction when Gym Leader Miles’ Slowpoke fainted.

_Alright, just one more_ , Michael let himself think as air hissed out of his lungs.

His momentary confidence shattered as that strange pinkish light once again filled the confines of the Gym interior.

Michael spared a glance over to Gavin, who was staring blankly at the back wall of the battle arena.

Slowly, begrudgingly, Michael turned to see what Gavin was staring at.

Michael’s lips formed into a silent “o” when he took in the sight of the powerful Psychic type now positioned behind Gym Leader Miles, slowly walking towards the center of the competitive ring.

With growing terror, Michael took in the fact that the Alakazam approaching him hadn’t been summoned from a Pokeball. With a knot in his throat, he saw upon further inspection that Miles only had two Pokeballs clipped to his belt, though the information on Michael’s Gear clearly read that the Gym Leader's team consisted of three Pokemon.

Little snippets of that past few days skipped over the surface of his mind gracefully, like thrown stones across a calm pond. He remembered the old, old carvings at the museum. He pushed past the memories of Gavin’s warm, excited smile. He pushed past the way his pulse had rung in his ears that day, memories still fresh and raw on that day, longing he hadn’t been willing to acknowledge. With a blink of his eyes and a deep breath, Michael pushed it aside as he tore recklessly through the metaphorical cabinets of his mind, searching for useful information the hovered just out of reach.

A powerful Psychic type Pokemon.

One who gave permission to turn the ancient temple into a Gym.

One who picked the Gym Leaders personally.

One who, after a period of judgement, granted entrance to challengers.

Michael felt the ground drop out from beneath him as he realized exactly what had been judging him earlier, that strong Psychic “scent” he’d felt.

And just what exactly had found him worthy.

Michael felt a bead of sweat fall from his brow as he spared a glance to the side, to Gavin. Gavin met him with a pale, shocked face.

"Right then," Michael muttered under his breath, too overwhelmed to really soak in the gravity of the situation.

Later it would crash over him. Later he would shake and wrap his arms around his body and stand in the painfully hot shower feeling as cold as a glacier.

Later, universe willing, he would pour his heart out to Gavin.

_No time for that now_.

From one breath to the next Michael was able to bring himself under a useful calm, one that would let him function, one that had been beaten into him over the years thanks to his time at the Academy and the special attentions of Geoff.

Invoking Geoff’s memory added another layer to Michael’s forced relaxation.

_Okay. Okay think. This is new, this is different. Go with what you know. Don’t fucking freak out_.

Michael watched as Gym Leader Miles stepped subserviently to the side to allow the Alakazam to pass him, settling in place where the two Pokemon that Miles had personally summoned had previously competed.

All of this happened in a bizarre silence that had Michael ready to snap.

For the first time that Gavin had seen, the bravado in Michael’s eyes faltered during a Gym battle.

"Minerva! Hex!"

He only had so many uses of the move, and the “guns blazing” methodology no longer seemed so impressive up against an mythical, powerful Pokemon that apparently had more authority in this city than the Gym Leader himself.

Michael cursed louder than he would have liked as his Gear narrated, cutting off his command.

"Minerva is confused! Minerva has hurt itself in its confusion!"

"Mother _fucker!_ " Michael growled, immediately winced and wiping his palm over his face. "Sorry," he grumbled out, though at this point he had the distinct impression that no one cared either way.

Gym Leader Miles bridged his fingers in front of his face as he made his first actual command regarding Alakazam.

"Disable," Miles spoke calmly.

"Hex has been disabled," Michael’s Pokegear read blissfully, oblivious to Michael’s snarl.

Before Michael had to chance to react, it continued.

"Minerva is confused! Minerva has hurt itself in its confusion!"

Michael’s teeth ground together.

"Minerva has fainted!"

"God _fucking_ dammit!” Michael sputtered, stomping down hard on the dusty stone floor. “Sorry, again,” he quickly amended, rubbing hard at the back of his neck as he struggled to work around his annoyance and think rationally.

He let out a deep breath.

"Alright. Dash. Get out there!"

"Electric against Psychic?"

Michael scowled but didn’t voice his exasperation at the comment.

From his vantage point by the eerily silent judge’s table, Gavin’s hands tightened in his lap, doing his best not to wring the fabric of his breeder apron too obviously.

"Alakazam. Would you use Disable for us again, hmm?"

The eyes of the ominous Pokemon glowed for a moment, and Michael waited with his heart in his throat to see which of his four moves would no longer be accessible for the duration of the match.

Weak relief nearly overwhelmed him when his Gear showed him the result.

Poker face unwavering, he didn’t allow himself to crack a smile as he looked up to meet Gym Leader Miles’ gaze.

"Dash," Michael said slowly, the tension between his shoulder blades rising to an uncomfortable level. " _Bite_.”

Despite what Gavin might have believed, Michael _had_ been paying attention the past few days as Gavin had intently studied Psychic types and their weaknesses. As Michael had been bonding with Minerva, he’d also been listening, sneaking glances, reading passages that he’d noticed Gavin had marked as important.

And Dark type moves had quite the advantage over Psychic.

"It’s super effective!"

For the first time since Michael had trudged up the steps to the Goldboro Gym, he saw the smile falter on the Gym Leader’s face.

Michael watched as the health meter for Alakazam slowly retreated down his display screen, proving that the legendary Pokemon was mortal after all. He didn’t allow himself to hope.

When the bar stopped moving, Michael looked up sharply, watching, waiting for Miles to make his next move.

The inviting, cocksure grin was back on the Gym Leader's face, and yet it somehow seemed more genuine than before. Among the many things Michael intended to discuss with Gavin, the authenticity of Miles’ smile at the end of the battle would be near the top of the list.

To Michael’s utter shock, Miles spoke his next command.

"Alakazam. Miracle Eye."

It was a non-offensive move. One that reset status advantages. Status advantages that Michael hadn’t even used. _A useless move_. Michael didn’t let his jaw swing low too before snapping it back into place and urging Dash into a final use of Bite to finish the match.

There was no fanfare. No flashing lights or huge digital display. No applause. One of the League Officials calmly read the result over a microphone, the lone piece of technology present that Michael could see.

The Alakazam slowly faded into the shadows of the back of the pyramid. Michael blinked and shivered as the sweat on the back of his neck started to go cold. Without the overbearing lights that he was used to within Gyms and other League buildings, Michael wasn’t prepared for the quite literal chilling after effects.

"What is going on?" Gavin asked from his seat off to the side, loud enough to hear from where Michael was standing.

Gym Leader Miles let a friendly smile spread over his features, extending an arm to gesture for Michael to follow him. “I believe I have a badge for you, young man. Why don’t you follow me to my office.”

Michael managed to resist the urge to roll his eyes at the now expected request, his eyes darting about somewhere over Miles’ shoulder to try and locate in the door in the familiar back corner.

Miles ducked into his line of sight, waving a hand for attention. “Not back there, my friend. My office is actually outside the Gym, come, follow me.”

Michael glanced over to Gavin to give him an apologetic smile and shrug- and then Miles gestured for his attention once again, on the verge of making Michael’s stomach flip worse than it had during the match.

"Bring your friend with you. I have much to say to both of you."


	5. Chapter 5

Gavin struggled to keep up on the heels of Michael and Gym Leader Miles. Miles was leading them directly out of the Arena and back down the long, impressive front stairs of the Goldboro Gym. The sudden bright sunlight had Gavin wincing, blocking it out with his hands. Michael seemed unaffected, only half a pace behind the Gym Leader. Gavin had caught a glimpse of his face back inside, and whatever was currently driving Michael would apparently _not_ be denied.

Once back on the ground level, Miles took them around in the shadow of the inclined, stone entrance to a simple wooden door neither of them would have ever noticed on their own. Miles opened it, closing it behind them once they were all inside the Gym Leader’s modest office.

More of those candles with the artificial flicker-flames lined the interior of the room. It was small but not cramped, with several comfortable chairs positioned around one half of the room, and a simple, wooden desk on the other with bookshelves behind it. A few framed photographs were hung on the walls between the candleholders, mostly black and white. They seemed to be at least half a century old, possibly depicting the cities excavation. Gavin longed for a better look but politely took his seat next to Michael as Miles settled himself behind his desk.

Michael looked like he was about to explode, hands gripping hard at the armrests of his chair, staring silently at Miles for a clue of what would happen next.

Gym Leader Miles cleared his throat and smiled, pulling a pair of black-framed glasses from a drawer on his desk, adjusting them into place on the bridge of his nose. The folds of his spacious sleeves draped across the surface his desk as he folded his hands atop it. “You look like you have a lot of questions to ask me, Trainer Michael.”

Gavin glanced to the side just in time to see Michael spit out, “What the fuck was _that?_ ”

Miles maintained professionalism, his expression unchanged. “What was _what_ , Trainer Michael?”

Michael stood up out of his chair as he gestured broadly with one arm in the direction of the Arena. “All of that! Your weird-ass Gym with it’s own set of rules! And that Alakazam! That was supposed to be a _myth_ , what the _fuck_ was that?”

"Michael," Gavin whispered, reaching a hand out to touch Michael in some way, to calm him, but Michael just shook him off, too worked up to be placated.

"And then you _let me win_. What is going _on?_ ”

"I didn’t let you win," Miles said calmly, his posture perfectly still save for the corner of his lips creeping up higher.

"Fucking _Miracle Eye_ , really? It didn’t even _do_ anything!”

"That wasn’t my decision."

"Oh, so the _Pokemon_ let me win?”

"Trainer Michael-" Miles cut him off as he raised one hand, showing Michael his open palm. "I understand your frustration. Sit, please. Maybe I should start at the beginning."

With a low grumble that Gavin couldn’t make out, Michael obliged, sitting down once more.

"Let me ask you this. What do you already know about Goldboro and this pyramid?"

Michael looked over at Gavin for a brief, silent exchange. Gavin gave him a small nod.

"Well. We went to the museum a few days ago. We saw something there that said that back when Goldboro was still getting dug up by archeologists, well, they found the pyramid with Psychic Pokemon, uh, already living inside it. And the strongest one gave them permission to turn it into a Gym. And that it-" Michael hesitated, realizing how ridiculous it all sounded but at the same time recognizing how much it added up with events that he’d just experienced first hand. "It said that the Pokemon picks the Gym Leader."

Miles made sure he was finished before responding.

"And do you believe any of that?"

Michael chewed his lip and flushed hard. “I _didn’t_. At least, I didn’t think I did. Until-“

"Until just now?"

Without looking up, Michael nodded.

"Not many people know the full story about Goldboro and the excavation, even people who live here. However, as you just earned yourself the Gold Nugget badge, that means you’re entitled to certain bits of information unavailable to the public."

Michael raised his head and looked over at Gavin, the question unspoken.

"He doesn’t need to leave," Miles said in a gentler tone, his smile softening. "Besides, you would have told him anyway."

This time, Gavin blushed right along with Michael.

Michael’s jaw was set into an intense frown, like he couldn’t tell if he was more offended or embarrassed by the accusation. It seemed like everyone they met couldn’t help but speculate out loud-

Miles went on, oblivious to their reactions. “You’re a team after all, right? In the League, we understand things like that.” Given the extent of the rumors, Michael wasn’t sure if Miles was being polite or genuinely didn’t know about them, but he gratefully nodded along with the offered explanation, feeling some of the painful color start to fade from his cheeks.

"So. Back when the experts from the Academy started to catch wind of what the archaeologists were digging up here in Goldboro those many years ago, they sent out historians and linguists to help them piece together what they were finding. Turns out that Goldboro was older than anyone had ever guessed, and dated back to a time when humans and Pokemon lived side by side, much closer than today. The Pokemon they found in the pyramid were the last of an ancient tribe."

Michael and Gavin nodded, while Miles paused, waiting for questions. When none came, he went on.

"Thanks to the intelligence and quick thinking of the group who first encountered the Pokemon, they were able to explain the concept of the League and the Academy to them. They told the Pokemon about the Gyms and the relationships that Trainers formed with their teams. If things had been handled less delicately-" Miles spread his hands wide, letting Michael and Gavin form their own conclusions about how powerful Pokemon long removed from modern society might react to learning about battles and training phrased the wrong way.

"The Alakazam that you fought just now was the strongest of the original group, and was deferred to by the rest regarding the final decision. As I’m sure you’ve figured out by now, yes, the Alakazam granted permission for humans and the League to convert the pyramid to a Gym. I’m the third Gym Leader here that he’s chosen. Due to the- delicate nature of the Goldboro Gym, the League has allowed us to deter from some standards that you’ll see everywhere else on your journey to the Obsidian Plateau."

Michael let out a deep breath. “Okay. So all the stories are true. That still doesn’t explain why you let me win.”

Miles waited a moment before replying, studying his fingers, choosing his next words. “When you’re chosen as the Goldboro Gym Leader, you accept a partnership with Alakazam. In some way, he is always in my thoughts. An observer, most of the time. During Gym battles- his presence is a bit more, ah, _noticeable_.”

"He can read your _mind?_ " Gavin blurted out, too shocked for formalities.

Miles smiled. “In a sense. It’s more than that. He can see through my eyes. And I, well, I can see through his. I can sense his emotions, as he can sense mine. He trusts my judgement. And he was the one who decided that you’d already won, by merits of your good nature and pure intentions.”

Michael squirmed in his seat. It all made him uncomfortable as hell. All this talk of real Psychic powers, powers that existed outside of a Pokemon battle- He’d never believed in that sort of thing. And now it was breathing down his neck.

"Through him, I could sense your passion for what you do, Trainer Michael. Your emotions are your greatest strength. As well as your utmost weakness. It was a very different experience than challenging your rival, Trainer Ray. His drive is like a fine stiletto, while yours swirls like a hurricane." Michael winced but Miles kept pushing. "That can work for you, Michael. There’s more to you than meets the eye. Our region is discovering that, one Gym victory at a time. And _all_ of us are paying very close attention to where you’re going next. A very good friend of mine as well as yours is waiting for you at the Towers.”

"The Towers?" Gavin asked quietly.

"Redstone Towers, our next destination," Michael answered. Within him swirled those emotions Miles had apparently been able to read so easily. The mention of the next town had shivers racing up Michael’s spine. He’d mentioned the name of it to Gavin a few times over the past couple days, but none of the details, as most of his attention had been focused on other things. Like the Goldboro Gym. The robbery. And- the rest.

Now though, now it was time to face it head on. Yet another stepping stone that he’d hoped to put off a little longer. He had bad luck with that, it seemed.

Miles nodded. “It’ll be the biggest city you’ve seen so far, Gavin. And to get there-“

"The bike road," Michael finished, his voice flat. He and Gavin had mostly been walking the bikes between them, and _he_ was out of practice, saying nothing about Gavin’s ability to ride. But the bike road would be _full_ of advanced riders, and if they were lucky they’d make it out with only a minimum of verbal abuse.

It had plenty of potential to get nasty.

To say nothing of the complicated situation Michael would find himself in once they made it into the city.

"Who do you know at Redstone Towers?" Gavin asked quietly, loud enough for Miles to hear by obviously directed at Michael.

"The Gym Leader," Michael said just as soft and low. "I know the Gym Leader, we were friends back in the Academy."

Miles didn’t chime in, letting Michael’s explanation stand. He did reach for something out of another drawer on his desk, rising up and walking around to hold out his closed hand. Michael looked up and held out his open palm to receive.

Gingerly, Miles set the Gold Nugget badge into his hand.

"Since you have the badge, there’s a special section of the bike road that you’ll have access to. It’ll still be hectic, but hopefully this should make your trip a little easier."

Michael felt some knots in his shoulder unwind. And with that small release of tension, suddenly all of his thoughts became focused on his bed back at the Inn. And talking to Gavin about the battle. And- Gavin-

Michael hid his blush behind a cough and a nod, pinning his badge into place and giving Miles a confident smile. “Thank you. For everything.”

Miles nodded, standing up straight and folding his arms across his chest with a returning grin. “You did well, Trainer. Take care of yourself out there.”

Right as the door was closing behind them, Miles added “And say hello to Lindsay for me!”

 

Back in the room, Michael sat down hard on the side of his bed with a dull thud.

"What a fucking day," he muttered, stretching his shoulders hard and letting out a soft gasp when he felt Gavin’s hands press down gently on the tight muscles.

"I thought I was going to crap myself back there in the Gym," Gavin murmured conversationally with a light laugh as the tips of his fingers sought out little knots of tension in Michael’s shoulders.

Michael’s neck went limp, his chin connecting with his collarbone. If he hadn’t been so exhausted, Gavin’s touch might have given him the opposite reaction, and as tired as he was, he could still feel a warm little flutter in his stomach at the way Gavin worked his hands. Finally he managed a response, giving out a short, brief laugh. “You and me both. What the _hell_ , man. Geoff never told me about any of this shit.”

"Do you think he just doesn’t know?"

"Doubt it. He probably wanted the shit in my pants to be natural or whatever."

Gavin gave a low chuckle in response, and the husky tone of it made Michael’s blood heat in his veins.

Michael didn’t resist when Gavin slid his vest off his shoulders, able to work his shoulders better through the thin layer of his t-shirt.

"Every time I feel like I can’t get more impressed with a town, they tell me the next one is gonna be bigger," Gavin breathed out with a slight sigh, cracking his neck from one side to the other, limbering up as he put a little more effort into his massage. "Iron Springs was beautiful and then _this_ place was just, _wow_ , you know? And now you’re saying Redstone Towers is gonna top it _all?_ ”

"It’s only gonna get crazier," Michael laughed. "There’s only one town between Redstone Towers and Lazuli City. Oh man, I can’t _wait_ for you to see it, you’re gonna love it-“

Michael’s words cut off in his throat when he felt Gavin gently press his lips against the back of his sensitive neck.

"I was wondering," Gavin said quietly, letting his hands drop down to Michael’s hips, darting under his shirt and traveling upwards once more, pressing against bare skin.

"Yeah?" Michael choked out, his eyes fixed straight ahead as his own pulse nearly deafened him.

"Maybe we could sleep in the same bed tonight, yeah?"

 

Kerry’s face was all but drained of blood when Chris re-entered the room. He’d gone out to grab them some food with the plan to head out in the morning.

"I got a call from Headquarters."

"Headquarters?" Chris frowned, setting the plastic bag containing their modest dinner down to fully turn and face his partner. "What the hell do they want with us?"

"I don’t know," Kerry said tersely, his hands raking through his short hair. "And it wasn’t just anyone, Chris. I got a call from Executive Commander Kara."

Now Chris understood the vacant look in Kerry’s eyes, and in that moment he could safely assume his own face was almost a mirror of Kerry’s.

All four of the Executive Commanders had a reputation of cruelty and trouble. Chris had never met any of of them and he doubted Kerry had either. There was no reason for them to be of interest to some of the highest ranking Team Rocket members unless-

"Did they ask anything about Michael and Gavin?"

Kerry scowled at the mention of the names and the trouble they’d been through thanks to those two. “No. It was brief, man. She just asked if we’d had any recent “acquisitions”. She _is_ the Acquisition Commander. I told her no, which isn’t entirely a lie.”

Chris let out a long huff of breath.

"So are we in trouble, or what?"

Kerry reached for the bag of supplies Chris had arrived with, claiming a soda and popping it open, taking a long drink. “Not officially. But something’s fucked up, man. Me and you are so far down the foodchain it’s _redonk_ to think we’d be a blip on her radar. I think they know a lot more than they’re letting on. They’re keeping an eye on us because we’ve been interacting with that fucker Michael. Anything on his team is gonna be top dollar on the black market, and the higher ups are probably drooling over him.”

Chris’ eyes darted to the side. He didn’t personally agree with everything Team Rocket did. He hated the thought of taking Pokemon away from people who honestly cared for them. He’d joined Team Rocket because of the corruption he’d seen, of bad owners who didn’t deserve their charges.

And the money, that hadn’t hurt, either.

But now his fate was sealed. He’d made his bed, and he would sleep in it. He fought down the self-pity, trying to focus on what Kerry was saying.

With a frown, Chris reached for one of the wrapped sandwiches from the plastic bag. He unwrapped it and took a bite, the two of them eating in silence on their last night in Goldboro.

 

"Do you think they suspect anything?"

Executive Commander Kara smiled at the insult veiled as a question. “Probably. But it wouldn’t be my fault if they did. We already know they’re hiding the truth. They’re probably suspicious of everybody.”

"How did you convince Jordan to let you use his cameras?"

Kara shrugged, turning away from the tall glass window to face her fellow Commander.

Misinformation. What an untrustworthy department.

"I have my ways," she replied, her voice thick with secrets.

Executive Commander Caleb took a few steps further into her office. “Of course.”

"Why shoulder I tell you anything, anyways? Your entire existence here in knee-deep in lies."

Caleb shrugged with a deceptively friendly smile. “We’re all tracking the same story, Kara. We’re all trying to serve the Boss as best we can.”

Her lips tightened, forcing them into a position that resembled a smile. “Of course.”

"From what I can gather, both our lucky Grunts and the League’s favorite boyfriends are headed to the same next location."

"Then I trust we will be having many such similar conversations in the future."

 

Gavin’s back arched once before he collapsed, sweaty against the soft surface of Michael’s bed.

His fingers, which had been tightly wound into Michael’s hair, loosened their grip as he let out a ragged groan.

The next day, they would be on the road again, with several days between them and their next comfortable night’s sleep in a real bed.

Michael raised himself up onto his knees, wiping off his smirking mouth with the back of his hand before collapsing down next to Gavin, flat on his back.

They’d both been exhausted before, but now couldn’t stay awake a moment longer if they’d tried.

By the time he’d readjusted his ruffled sleeping clothes and arranged the pillow to his liking, Gavin was already half asleep.

Cautiously, Michael shifted to his side, head pounding despite how tired his limbs and mind alike slugged along. When Gavin didn’t react to his closer presence, he carefully wrapped an arm around Gavin’s midsection, resting his chin against the other young man’s shoulder.

Just around the moment Michael was nodding off, he could feel Gavin reach for one of his hands, twining their fingers together.

Tomorrow would be a challenge.

But for that night, everything was perfect.


End file.
